


Through Red Eyes

by fobfantasia



Series: you are out of my mind (vent fics) [2]
Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Blood, Blurryface-centric, Dissociation, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Josh and other people are here for like two seconds, Mental Health Issues, Mental Illness, Multiple Personalities, Other, Self-Harm, This is all a vent fic, not much detail but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 03:32:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5896474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fobfantasia/pseuds/fobfantasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blurryface clenched a fist. “I want out of this body! I didn’t ask to be born into his mind, I wanted my own body, not to be a motherfucking alter! Why are you the host? Why am I a uselessness alter no one likes?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through Red Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to my peeps with DID 
> 
> And fuck you to people who think some alters are all bad, they're human too.

They walked out of class next to each other, Josh going to his locker habitually.

“So Tyler, no practice today, right?”

His eyes didn't move from the floor. “No, Coach wasn’t here today,” he mumbled monotonously.

Mark came out of another classroom with their friend, bumping his shoulder on his and greeting him. Subconsciously, he flinched. Josh noticed instantly. Neither of his alters liked physical contact much, especially rough contact.

As soon as they started walking away, Josh closed his locker and glanced at his friend. “Are you Tyler right now?”

He shook his head and put his hands in his pockets, walking with Josh to the parking lot. He nodded in acknowledgement and asked, “who’s there?”

“Blurryface,” he responded, emotionless and empty. He could see Josh tense up immediately and look away. He hadn’t come across Blurry before, and he seemed to not be taking it the best way. He were never the one that was liked, after all.

Tyler’s other personality, Blaise, her name is, is the one Josh had already befriended. She was the calm, cool one, the neurotypical one, the one everyone liked. Then there was Tyler, who was a little bit unstable but under control, who stopped listening to Blurryface’s advice the past three years. He was making it, he was growing as a person. He was even flirting with a girl, Jenna. He was miles past who he was three years ago.

Blurryface made his full appearance six years ago. The red eyes, black hands, blood-soaked forearms and abdomen. Three years ago, Blurry asked to be freed from the body, that he was here to help. They tried to let his soul bleed out through slits on their wrists, but he was trapped. Three years ago, he let himself show on the body. Three years ago, Tyler Joseph looked in the mirror and saw nothing else but a monster.

Two years ago, Tyler started getting better. Blaise appeared, cheering on Tyler and helping him with little things. He met Josh, who was cool and attractive but still respected Blaise. Tyler bloomed and admired her; at the same time, he looked at Blurry with disgust.

The two made it to their separate cars and Josh left with an awkward wave, like he did when he was upset and didn't want to speak to anyone.

Blurry sat in Tyler’s car, head on the wheel. No one ever liked him, only Tyler and Blaise. They were the cool ones, Blaise doesn't drag Tyler down. Blaise brings him up.

Blurry glanced at his wrist, thin white scars all along it. He chuckled and started the car, heading home reluctantly.

With no family home, he headed straight to his room. He glanced at the bag of shoelaces he had, remembering when he and Tyler thought that death, specifically suicide, could separate the souls. The shoelaces were tied in practice nooses, still in the same knot in their plastic bags. Tyler was always too scared, but the theory seemed to work out. They could never test it out, anyways.

As Blurry reminisced on these theories that made him who he is, and chuckled. He was so tempted to try another time, let his soul breathe out through bleeding wounds.

“No, no you're not. We’re going to be sent to a hospital and we’ll be locked up because of you. You’re not fucking my life up again,” Tyler growled, trying to turn the body around.

Blurry laughed, staying in place. “I’m in control, you never let me out to play! I need a life too, I can't live forever in your head.”

He couldn’t stop laughing. If he was supposed to be the bad one, he was going to be what they wanted. Angry, destructive, anxious, everything Blaise wasn’t.

Blurryface went to Tyler’s box of happy things, little trinkets to tackle Blurryface to the floor of his mind before he could get to the things he was truly reaching for.

“Blurry,” a soft voice whispered, soothing and calm, “you don’t want to do this.”

“Yes I do, Blaise,” he mumbled, reaching inside the envelope with letters from Josh to get him to smile. “You get to feel Tyler’s happiness, you get his good days. What do I get?”

“Doing this will make him hate you more. He doesn't want you to hurt him,” Blurry felt her hand on his shoulder, “you can earn his love by taking care of this vessel.”

“I don't care,” he was raising his voice, clutching the razor blade in their hand. It was digging into their skin, not hard enough to bleed yet. “I want out of this body! I didn’t ask to be born into his mind, I wanted my own body, not to be a motherfucking alter! Get me out get me-”

“Blurry. Listen to me,” Tyler sounded angry, to the point that Blaise and him were a bit scared.

“Put that bullshit away.”

“No, I need to get out-”

“BLURRY.”

“I don’t want to be in this body anymore.” Blurry’s grip loosened and the blade dropped.

Tyler sighed. “We got so far, I need you to keep this body safe.”

He ran a hand through his hair and walked to the mirror, glancing at the hand with the blade.

“Why do you get to be the host…” Blurryface grumbled, picking it up between his index and thumb.

“Blurryface, no-”

“...why am I just a useless alter that no one likes…” he dragged it over his hand, near his thumb. It was sharper than expected, going through muscle and oozing blood.

Blaise piped in, “we’re gonna get sent away. Do you want that? Three more pills a day and another therapist?”

He ignored them, scratching it on his forearm. He could get away with this, say he and Josh came across a kitten with sharp claws. If he did if the right way, it could be believable.

“Blurryface, you’re not bad.”

He looked up, scanning around the room for the body of the voice. It couldn’t have been Blaise or Tyler, they hated him, they couldn't possibly be nice to him at any time.

“It’s not an alter, I'm outside. You’re just not in the best place right now.”

“I’m fine, really. Calm now.” He tried.

“You need help, now.”

Blurryface was getting irritated. “No, let my soul die.”

The voice took his hand and smiled, small teeth and all white eyes. It’s skin was the color of that shitty charcoal eyeliner Pete got when he first went shopping for makeup.

“You’ll be okay. Joshua accepts you, all of you,” the figure hugged him and he hugged back, towering over it.

“Now, what’s your name?”

“I’m Blurryface,” he responded, taking in a deep breath.

“No, tell me all of your names.”

Blurry was confused for a moment, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

“We’re Blurryface, Blaise, and Tyler.”

The voice seemed satisfied. “You’re still a part of this body, you’re equally as important. You share a body, share a face. You must be fair with it, or none of you will live in it fully happily.” Blurryface sighed and nodded.

The voice locked their fingers on both hands, looking upwards. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay, friend?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> joshdunfucker on tumblr  
> fobfantasia on 8tracks


End file.
